Cooking with Jam
by Tirsh
Summary: Jammy One Shot with some Spike and Jules chick talk thrown in for fun. Set Post Slow Burn. Sort of a companion piece to my other story Last First Kiss.


Cooking with Jam

**A/N:** So this technically stands alone as a one-shot but it takes place just a few days after my other story, Last First Kiss, so it makes more sense if you read that one first. And for those of you who already took the time to read that one, and especially those who took the time to review – thanks so much! I never intended to write another one, but my friend SYuuri is very distressed by all the cute stuff that happens onscreen between Sam and Andy on Rookie Blue that we do not get to enjoy between Sam and Jules on Flashpoint – or as she puts it so eloquently: THEY. ARE. STEALING. ALL. THE. JAM! So this one's for her!

Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with any of these people – except in my head!

"Getting close to lunchtime," Spike commented idly as he and Jules patrolled Toronto's blissfully quiet west end.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Jules grinned at him.

He nodded, "I believe we've earned it today."

"Mmmhmm. Remind me – was that when we confiscated the fireworks from the scary nine year olds or when you masterfully talked down the sorority girl about to go all Carrie Underwood on her boyfriend's truck?" She turned right onto the side street that would take them to their destination.

"Hey, Kappa Gamma was ready to throw down. That situation was fraught with danger."

Jules snorted, "Fraught with hormones more likely. She was what –like maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet? I know you've been spending a lot of time in the truck lately but I still think you could've taken her."

Spike sighed, "Fine. Maybe not today, but it's been a long week. We have earned it."

"Copy that," Jules agreed as she pulled the SUV into the parking lot at Island Foods.

They made their way to the counter at the back and stood in line. "Comms are pretty quiet – think we should risk it?" Spike asked her.

"Well, now you've probably jinxed us. Better make it to go just in case we have to run," She pulled two grapefruit sodas out of the cooler and put them on the tray.

"Two Chicken Roti to go it is!"

"Three," Jules amended.

Spike glanced at her one eyebrow raised, "I know it's your favourite, but geez Jules, no need to be piggy about it."

She gave him her patented "You're an idiot" look. He was, frankly, more comfortable when that look was directed at Sam. "Ohhh, Sam," he said as realization dawned, "But Jules, it will stink up the truck."

"Stop whining. Sam finds out I was here and didn't bring him any, you know when I'll hear the end of that? Approximately never, that's when."

"He doesn't ever need to find out we were here. I won't tell him."

"Yeah, because you can totally keep a secret. Besides, it's curry. He'll know."

"Maybe if you two could keep your damn hands off of each other for five minutes," he muttered under his breath while he selected the necessary utensils and tossed them on the tray with a couple packets of hot sauce.

Jules smiled to herself at his comment. She had kept her damn hands off of Sam for over two years and it was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, so Spike could damn well suck it up now. "Or you know, I could just tell Sam that we were here and his best friend was too worried about the truck to bring him any roti. Would that be better?"

"We'll double bag it. I'm sure it will be fine." Sam might be his best friend but dude was also a sniper – no need to piss him off.

After paying for their goodies, they made their way to a table in the corner and dug in. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, wanting to get some food in their stomachs, as they never really did know how long they would have to eat. After awhile, Jules was the first to speak, "So, how's Nat?"

"She's good," Spike nodded, "Better." It hadn't been very long ago that Natalie had been held hostage by an ex-boyfriend. Thankfully, everything had turned out okay but the last few weeks had been rough for her.

"No more nightmares?" Jules took a sip of her pop.

"Not when I'm there," Spike replied quickly, only then realizing what he had just admitted to.

She shot him a knowing smirk, "So, let me guess, now you've claimed squatter's rights at Sam's place too?"

"It's not like he's using it for anything," he grumbled.

Jules laughed, "Yeah, because that's why. You're a real problem solver Spike."

"It's what I do," he grinned, sheepish, "But you don't need to … you know… tell Sam or anything."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes, "He knows you're sleeping with his sister. I mean he prefers to think of it more in terms of you guys holding hands, but he's blond, not stupid." Spike looked slightly panicked so she couldn't resist twisting the knife just a little, "Besides, Nat loves to make her brother squirm – so I'm not sure you have any secrets from Sam."

"Great. That's just great," Spike said sarcastically, making a mental note to have a chat with Natalie about rules, and the difference between things that were appropriate for conversations with her sniper brother and things that were definitely not.

Jules stopped to think for a minute, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, deciding if she should share something with Spike. In the end she thought he should know. "You know it was never about you right?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, not sure where she was headed.

"Sam's objection to you and Nat – it was never about him thinking you weren't good enough for his little sister."

"Yeah, I know. It's fine," he brushed if off but she could tell he didn't really believe it, that it still hurt.

"No, really Spike. It was about her. She can be … careless. He was afraid she would hurt you." 'Chew him up and spit him out' had been Sam's exact words on the subject but Jules didn't really think Spike needed to know that part.

"I'm a big boy Jules. I can take care of myself," he popped a forkful of potato in his mouth.

"I know. Sam knows – the two of them are just so different - he struggles with her happy-go-lucky party girl ways. He worries that she doesn't take anything – or anyone - seriously."

"I got that. It's part of why I put the brakes on before…" Ugh. Where was a hot call when you needed one?

"But…"

"People change, Jules," he shrugged. "Shit gets real when you have a gun held to your head. I mean, you know. It has a tendency to put your priorities in order."

"I do," she nodded, not completely sure if he was talking about Natalie now or about himself. Maybe it was both.

"Anyway, she's grown up a lot in the last few weeks and it wouldn't hurt Sam any to give her some credit for that," Spike huffed.

"He's getting there," She smiled, thinking to herself how cute it was to see Spike jumping to Natalie's defense. This thing between them had the potential to make things really interesting around her house; she wasn't sure if she wanted to find a hiding place to wait it out or make some popcorn and enjoy the show.

"So how is Samtastic, anyway?" Spike decided a change of subject was in order.

"He's okay but he's going a little stir crazy. Give the guy a Remy and a sniper perch and he can literally sit motionless for hours. Tell him he has a concussion and he needs to take it easy and he can't sit still for five minutes."

"Yeah, I guess relaxing is not exactly Sam's strong suit."

"Not exactly, no. Certainly part of the problem is being forced to relax but the other part is that he really has nothing to do. I mean at the end of a long day, put a beer in his hand and a game on the TV and he can chill out like a pro, but watching TV for more than 20 minutes at a time gives him a nasty headache. So does reading or doing anything on the computer, and of course he's not allowed to do anything very active. So he's a little frustrated to say the least."

"When's his follow-up?"

"This afternoon."

"He told Nat he thought the 'girl wonder' would clear him for light duty and let him go back to work next week."

"Did he really?"Jules rolled her eyes, "Well then we can add delusional to stir crazy."

"You don't think so? Not even for light duty?" he took a long drink of his pop.

"Sure, maybe if he was going back to his job as a clerk at the Home Depot. Hopefully she'll clear him for some light exercise, but for his job he's going to need at least another week – maybe two, depending on the headaches."

"So what DOES he do with himself all day?"

"I'm not really sure. Takes a lot of naps. Goes for walks. Gets himself all worked up listening to sports shows on talk radio. Thinks of ways to annoy me when I get home," she finished jokingly as Spike laughed. "Oh and last night he asked me to teach him how to cook."

"Wow." Spike sounded surprised.

"What do you mean 'wow'? I cook," She huffed.

"Relax, I just meant wow he must really be hard up for entertainment if he wants to learn to cook. What did you teach him to make?" he tried to picture Sam in the kitchen doing something other than ordering take out and it just didn't quite compute.

"Nothing yet. Conveniently, he didn't ask until after supper. So, we're starting tonight. I think maybe we'll start with my mama's marinara."

"Your mama's marinara?" Spike raised his eyebrows, clearly skeptical, "Jules, your mom is Irish."

"No, my dad is Irish. My mom is … well she's Canadian and it's possible she saw it on a cooking show but whatever. Don't be such a snob," she playfully lobbed a packet of hot sauce at him. "Italians aren't the only ones who can cook Italian food."

"Okay, okay," he laughed as he caught it easily.

"Anyway, it's delicious."

"I think I'm going to have to be the judge of that, as the only one with any real Italian authority here."

"Did you just invite yourself over for dinner?" she laughed. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd wheedled his way into a home cooked meal since his mom had left for Italy.

"I believe I did, yes." He was grinning as he started piling the remnants of their meal on the tray in an unspoken signal that it was time to get back to work.

"Fine, but not tonight." She picked up the bag for Sam as Spike grabbed the tray. "We're off shift day after tomorrow – so tomorrow night."

"Can I…" he paused to pull the door open and wave her through.

"Yeah, bring your girlfriend, "she elbowed him in the ribs as she passed him. "And some wine. Not that homemade crap either."

"Jules…"

"I'm not kidding, Spike" she settled into the driver's seat. "Go to the liquor store. Spend some money. At least ten bucks."

"Copy that." She was so getting a case of the homemade crap for Christmas.

"Okay, here we go. Keeping the world safe from sorority girls everywhere," she shot him a playful wink.

"I'm telling you Jules, she was feisty," he grinned as he turned his comm back on.

A few hours later, after an uneventful afternoon on patrol and a quick trip to the grocery store, Jules slipped in her front door. She didn't see any signs of Sam on the first floor so she dropped her groceries on the counter and headed upstairs. She found him sprawled diagonally across the bed on his stomach, clearly sound asleep. She seriously considered letting him sleep, but in the end she figured he'd had enough rest in the past week and he was just too darn irresistible lying there clad in nothing but his pajama pants.

She quietly slipped off her jacket and placed it on the chair in the corner before sitting carefully on the bed beside him. She reached out to stroke the soft short hair at his nape, gently massaging the muscles of his head and neck as she did so. Sam let out a soft groan and turned his head to the side so he could see her. "Hi," he said, adorably sleepy and rumpled. "Feels nice."

"Hi." She leaned over to drop a kiss on his temple. "How're you doin'?"

"Good. Better, now you're home." He sighed under her competent fingers. "You're hired."

"I wasn't aware I had applied for a position", she grinned as she straddled him so she could give him a proper massage.

"No need. You were scouted.

"Was I? In that case, I may have to reconsider my asking price."

"You do that. Meanwhile, I may have some thoughts regarding your signing bonus," he grabbed a pillow and tucked it under his chest, getting a little more comfortable. He wasn't sure why he was getting pampered but he was no dummy; he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

"How'd it go?" she asked referring to his follow-up appointment.

He sighed heavily, "About like I expected it to."

"Really? Back to work?" she asked.

"Where did you get that idea?" he sounded as surprised as she had.

"Spike. He said you told Nat you expected to be cleared for light duty."

"And you believed that?" he smirked.

"Not really, I may have used the word 'delusional'"

"Nice." He rolled his eyes, "I might have preferred the phrase 'wishful thinking'. Anyway sometimes I tell my sister what I think she needs to hear so we can skip the whole mother hen thing she's got going on."

"Sam," she scolded as her strong fingers continued to expertly manipulate the muscles and tendons in his back, "it's sweet that she worries about you."

"It's sweet for like a day and a half and then it's just kind of annoying. And besides I have an actual mother to fill that role," he groaned as she worked out a tough knot. "Seriously Jules, you ever decide to give up the glitz and glamour of team one, you could totally go pro at this."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now, stop avoiding the subject and tell me what the doctor said."

"She said everything looks good, keep doing what I'm doing – which is nothing – and she'll see me next week."

"Is she worried about the headaches?"

"Nope, said they're to be expected and will likely start to drop off some this week."

"And your shoulder?"

He shrugged, "It's a bone bruise – it will hurt until it doesn't. Feel free to use it but don't over do, nothing weight bearing, blah blah blah. Can we please be done talking about this now?"

"Sure," she laughed as she patted his back and lifted up a little so he could flip over under her.

"This is nice too," he winked at her.

"Don't get any ideas. I'm starving and …" she paused for dramatic effect "I brought you a treat."

He tugged her down on top of him, "What if I choose you as my treat?"

"Sadly for you, I am not on the menu at the moment," she leaned in to give him a quick kiss but Sam was ready for her. He captured her lips with his own, kissing her deeply and thoroughly until they were both breathless. Just as Jules was rethinking her position on the menu, her tummy rumbled loudly causing them both to burst out laughing.

"That's just not ladylike Jules," he grinned shaking his head at her.

"I TOLD you I was starving," she rolled off of him and offered her hand to pull him up, "now come on. Dinner."

As he trotted down the stairs behind her he said knowingly, "My 'treat' better be some of that chicken roti you had for lunch."

"I told Spike you would know," she threw up her hands, "I brushed and everything."

While Jules got some bowls down Sam started poking through the bags on the counter. "What's all this, babe?"

"Stuff for your cooking lesson."

He rolled his eyes, "We don't really have to – "

"Oh no! You are not backing out, Braddock! I don't care if you said it in a moment of weakness or boredom or both – we're doing this." She pulled last night's leftovers out of the fridge for her supper, "besides, we kind of have to. Spike invited himself over for dinner tomorrow night."

"Fine," he sighed. Not like he really had anything else to do anyway. He found the bag with his roti and dug it out. "You don't have to eat leftovers. I'll share. I don't need all of this."

"You're sweet," she patted him on the cheek, "but we both know you're going to make short work of that. Anyway, I had my fill at lunch. I'm fine with the soup from last night. She put the pot on the stove to heat it up while Sam dumped his roti into a bowl so he could nuke it.

"So tell me about Spike and the scrappy sorority girl," he grinned, blue eyes twinkling.

"Your information is pretty good for someone who barely got dressed today."

"Hey, I put on a shirt and everything to go to my appointment." He held up a loaf of crusty bread from one of the shopping bags, "Is this for tomorrow or can I have some now?"

"Go ahead, we can get fresh tomorrow."

"Anyway, maybe if you let Spike drive the truck every now and then he wouldn't have quite so much time on his hands to text my sister."

She rolled her eyes at him, "He's bringing your sister to dinner tomorrow night."

"I figured," he tore a chunk off the end of the loaf and tucked it into his bowl.

"Easy there Captain Caveman, we have knives you know. When did you talk to Nat?"

"She brought lunch by." He shot her a sheepish smile.

"So her mother hen thing isn't all bad then."

"Not entirely, I suppose. That girl needs to learn to keep some things to herself though, or at the very least not tell me." He scrunched up his nose and shook his head.

"I'd be willing to bet that Spike is making that very point as we speak."

As they settled in at the table with their respective meals Sam said, "So, Spike v. Pi Beta Phi. Details."

After they finished eating and Jules had regaled him with stories from their day on patrol, Sam did a quick clean up while she unpacked the groceries and got out everything they would need.

"Okay, ready?" she asked him.

"Sure," he grinned, "You start, I'll watch."

"Nice try. I'm watching; you're cooking. That way if Spike doesn't like it, I can blame you," she winked at him, "Don't worry, it's super easy."

"Awesome." He said sarcastically, "What are we making?"

"My mama's marinara," she handed him a can opener, "tomatoes first."

As he dumped the fifth of six large cans of tomatoes in the pot he asked, "exactly how many people are Spike and Nat bringing with them tomorrow?"

"Just them. It takes the same amount of time to make a bunch and freeze it."

"Potato masher, crush the tomatoes gently."

"Six bay leaves," she held out the container "toss them in."

She pushed some carrots and celery stalks towards him. "Chop those in half and throw them in."

"In half? I don't remember this sauce being quite so chunky." He grinned.

"Do you remember it being delicious?"

"Yes."

"Then shut up," she replied cheekily as she peeled three onions and threw them into the pot whole.

"We're not going to dice those either?" he raised a skeptical eyebrow as she laughed.

"Nope, told you it was super easy."

She broke open a big head of garlic and separated 6 cloves. "Peeling garlic is a great way to work out any aggression you may be feeling." She joked as she slammed the flat of her knife down on each clove.

"Anything we need to talk about?" he joked back as he removed the peels that she had loosened and threw the garlic in the pot.

"We're good." She assured him smiling. "Season with salt and pepper," she showed him in her palm about how much before tossing it in, "and we are basically done."

"Really?"

"Really. You could add dried basil at this point if you wanted to, but I actually prefer to just add fresh when I use it." She carried the now heavy pot over to the stove and turned on the burner. "Medium heat until it bubbles, then turn it down and let it simmer."

She hopped up on the counter to wait as Sam came to stand in front of her. "I could totally make this," he said sounding proud of himself.

"I should hope so. Provided you can also boil water, you can make some pasta to go with it, throw in some garlic bread, maybe a salad - you've got yourself a meal."

"How long does it need to simmer?"

"At least an hour, but more is even better."

"In that case," he said stepping closer putting his hands on her waist, "I think it's time to discuss your signing bonus."

"Is it now? What did you have in mind?"

He ducked his head to whisper in her ear exactly what he had in mind.

"And did you bring me a note from your doctor?" she asked only half teasing.

"Jules, I was kidding about that,"

"I wasn't. Did you even ask? How do I know that it's okay?"

"Do you really think I would lie?" he asked, exasperated.

"I think you would embellish the truth if it meant you might get la-," Sam stopped her with a kiss.

"I asked girl wonder okay. The last time I had a conversation about sex with a sixteen year old, I think I WAS sixteen, but I asked."

"She's not actually sixteen, Sam," she giggled.

"I was being generous, I suspect she might only be 12. So awkward. But seriously, she said I'm fine to resume normal activity as long as I don't overdo it. And that's the whole sentence – not just the parts that work for me." He threw her words from the week before back at her.

"Very funny, brat," she hopped off the counter to check on the sauce. It was bubbling away so she gave it a quick stir and turned it down to low.

She turned to Sam, "So…"

"So…," he grinned, grabbing both her hands in his.

"So, I think I am ready to negotiate my bonus."

**A/N 2: So this is what comes from watching Run Jaime Run and the Rachael Ray show back to back. It's a real recipe that Giada did on there if anyone cares. Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated! **


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